If You Dare Come At Me About Banning Straws, I Will Throw You Into The Sun Cannon. I’m Disabled, I’m

hey just a heads up/warning for those of you who don’t do well dealing with the heavy subjects or videos portraying violent acts, sandyhook promise has a new gun violence school shooting PSA that is probably going to be going viral and is slated to play on television and in AMC movie theaters and it’s pretty heavy, especially at the end. I know it’s a topic that needs to be discussed but it’s not a video that everyone will be able to watch, so just a warning for those of you that might not be able to handle it.

(∆Gay Ghost Bam...?∆)

*the kitten wiggled closer to him* meow meow meow meow meow meow meow?

°He will be ok, you do not have to worry..°

*the kitten wiggled and purrs. he wonders if the man knows CJ and RJ*

*he adjusts himself into a more stable position and looks at what he had been typing. There were three things, actually, but the current one was an email. It looked harsh to him, and it had been. It looked more like an interrogation than a worried inquiry. His writing just tended to be like that though. He needed better words, gentler words.

*His brother had clearly been afraid- and the vague-ness had worried him further. All he knew was that one of the dumbasses had gotten hurt and that the other was being cryptic about it. By the time he actually got the right words, that got both his thoughts out and communicated them in a way that did not sound accusatory, he would already be in their house.*

¶...I worry about them, Kitten. I do. I hope that he's just riled up over nothing, you know?¶

👁️🌟💛🔥🙃🌌🎇👀❤️🦕

(∆I don't understand-∆)

Your ten most recent emojis describe how the 2020s will go for you

*the kitten wiggled closer to him. he's a cat. he's noting going to talk* meow *silly human*

*the man sighs.*

¶Guess you are stuck in here with me then. Don't chew any of my stuff, alright?¶

*he sits back down, frowns, and deletes a line from whatever he's writing before continuing. Time until arrival, approximately two hours.*

hey

like or reblog this post to get a random puppetfluff AU ego in your inbox saying they love and appreciate you

Keep the flame going for those we have lost to suicide. 

*The twins have managed to find their way home after the tear, which thankfully hadn't drop them too far. The two sets of headphones are on the table, the open space that joined the dining, living, and kitchen rooms providing enough area for the two of them to mill about while still within sight.*

*CJ is uploading footage from his camera into the computer, a flashlight next to him. RJ was rummaging through the kitchen, occasionally producing a small flashlight from one drawer or another. He had five on the counter before he moved to the pantry. Despite the relatively normal looking scene, both are tense and tired, RJ's usual chatter doesn't flow and doesn't come as often. CJ hasn't moved from his spot in front of the computer, which isn't all that uncommon, but there's an emptiness to his routine now.*

RJ?? RJ! Can you hear me? What happened? Oh god.. oh shit this is bad- -Neb

*RJ doesn't stir. He can't hear you. There's a steady trickle of blood running down from his temple, evidence of a nasty impact as a result of a nastier impact outside.*